of provisions, had not yet cut loose from their moorings, although
the rapid backing of the water threatened soon to convert the
wanigan into a chute for nearly the full volume of the current. He
seized one of the long oars, thrust the blade under the edge of a
thwart astern laid the shaft of the oar across the cargo, and by
resting his weight on the handle attempted to bring it down to bind
the contents of the wanigan to their places. The cookees saw what
he was about, and came to his assistance. Together they succeeded
in bending the long hickory sweep far enough to catch its handle-end
under another, forward, thwart. The second oar was quickly locked
alongside the first, and not a moment too soon. A rush of water
forced them all to cling for their lives. The poor old wanigan was
almost buried by the river.

But now help was at hand. Two or three rivermen appeared at the
edge of the chute. A moment later old man Reed ran up, carrying a
rope. This, after some difficulty, was made fast to the bow of the
wanigan. A dozen men ran with the end of it to a position of
vantage from which they might be able to pull the bow away from the
sunken obstruction, but Orde, appearing above, called a halt. After
consultation with Reed, another rope was brought and the end of it
tossed down to the shipwrecked crew. Orde pointed to the stern of
the boat, revolving his hands in pantomime to show that the wanigan
would be apt to upset if allowed to get side-on when freed. A short
rope led to the top of the dam allowed the bow to be lifted free of
the obstruction; a cable astern prevented the current from throwing
her broadside to the rush of waters; another cable from the bow led
her in the way she should go. Ten minutes later she was pulled
ashore out of the eddy below, very much water-logged, and manned by
a drenched and disgruntled crew.